Serendipity
by airtrafficstreams
Summary: Stranded, Chelsea and the other castaways must learn to live together to stand a chance of survival, despite the prospect of rescue lessening daily. In an amazing bit of serendipity, Chelsea discovers something she never, ever intended on discovering.
1. Chapter 1

_Prologue_

Her eyes shot open as mouthfuls of thick, humid air rushed into her aching lungs.

Gasping involuntarily with every breath, her body shuddered violently in relief as oxygen graciously began to return to her body.

Her eyes, dilating and constricting wildly, darted around as her senses came rushing suddenly back.

Sand. She was lying on sand, she deducted, her fingers grasping at the coarse grains in bewilderment. She flinched as rain drop after rain drop pelted her face, feeling like thousands of sharp needles piercing her skin. Despite the weather, drops of sweat trickled down the sides of her face and down her neck, disappearing into soaked folds of fabric. Raising her hand to wipe it away, she found that it wasn't sweat, but blood. Feeling around tenderly, she frowned as her hand came away entirely red.

Her mouth was dry, her lips cracked, and there was a distinct metallic taste at the back of her throat. She swallowed several times convulsively, feeling as though there was cotton lodged in her esophagus.

She smelled salt. Vague familiarity told her that she knew the smell, had smelled it very often before.

_Ah, yes_, she thought hazily. _Ocean salt._

She was on a beach.

The revelation fell from her thoughts as she slowly became aware of sound. Her pulse quickened as they gradually became louder, more intense.

Screaming. Crying. Waves, water being splashed. Deep, vibrating booms of thunder she could feel in her ears. Sporadic strikes of lightning, cracking like a whip.

She turned her head in the direction of the noise quickly, her stiff neck protesting. Getting to her feet, she stumbled a few steps through the sand as she took in the horrific sight before her.

A large passenger boat lay broken in two parts, one half half-sunken in the waves, the other splintered in pieces across the vast shore. There was smoke everywhere, streaming heavily from the blazes of fire engulfing the boat pieces on land despite the heavy rain. Rolls of thunder seemed to erupt mercilessly from the heavens, where they hid behind dank, dark clouds. White lightning lit up the sky, casting the entire scene in white.

There were people everywhere she could see. Running back and forth, screaming for help. Lying limply on the beach, unmoving. Standing at a distance, watching. Crying. Some were still in the water, their arms flailing. Names were being called in desperation, with frantic hopes of hearing an answer. The mass hysteria could be felt; a senseless feeling of panic was invoked within her as she ran into the midst of the insanity.

Adrenaline pumped through her body in waves as she sprinted across the sand, radiating across the entire span of her body. Her body tingled lightly as she became breathless, everything become vivid and sharp.

"Help! Help, please! Somebody, please, help me!"

She swiveled in the direction of the plea, her ears ringing.

It was a woman calling, her face contorted into a painful grimace. She ran over, assessing the situation in a matter of seconds. The woman was caught halfway beneath several planks of wood, her legs completely hidden.

"Please, help me, please. It's my legs, please help-"

"Hey! Somebody, help me! I need a hand, please!" She screamed hoarsely, her throat raw.

A nearby man, dragging himself through the sand, looked up at her screams.

"C'mon! We need to get her out!"

Without hesitation, he ran to her side, kneeling down beside her.

"On the count of three…You lift up the planks, and I'll pull her out," she directed, trying to be heard over the crowd. The man nodded, a glint of determination flashing in his dark eyes.

"One…Two….Three!" she hollered, before pulling on the woman's arms with all her strength. At the same time, the man elevated the boards enough so that the woman's legs were freed.

Her heart sank upon seeing the condition of her legs. While they were both still intact, there was a substantial amount of blood soaked through the bottom half of the woman's dress.

"Okay…okay, we need to staunch the blood flow," she said, swallowing her panic. Quickly she thanked whatever it was that made it so she wasn't the squeamish type.

Dismissing the thought, she looked to the man for help, only to see him untying a purple bandana from his head. Brown curls spilled out, and she found herself wondering how could possibly see, among other things.

"Tourniquets," the man said, moving down toward the woman's legs. "The pressure will stop the bleeding." He glanced up at her briefly, before averting his eyes towards the woman again. "Give me your bandana."

Quickly, she untied her own bandana from her head, handing it to the man. He shot her a toothy grin before resuming his tying.

"Hey! We need some help over here! Somebody, please!"

She was on her feet within seconds, sprinting away again.

Following the screams, she found two middle aged men standing in the waves, looking out to sea. They were both calves deep in the water, their faces horrorstruck. Another man lay several feet back on the sand, his eyes closed. She ran to him, fearing the worst.

He was pale, incredibly so, but as she listened she could make out a heartbeat. Faint and a little slow, but there. Convincing herself he was in fair enough health for the time being, she raced out to the men in the water.

Following their gazes, she watched as two children clung weakly to a part of the dismembered ship, about fifty meters out from shore.

Without a single word to the adults, she launched herself into the water. Her arms and legs pumped wildly, despite her exhaustion, and as she reached the pair, she realized that one of the children was being held aloft by the other.

"Help!" the boy hollered, strong fear coloring his tone. "Help!"

"Grab onto my back," she ordered, trying not to swallow water. The boy hesitated, his bottom lip trembling.

"If you don't, we're all going to drown out here," she said, her limbs already burning. "Please. Get on my back."

The boy seemed to steel himself before letting go of the object, struggling to keep his own head above the water along with the girls. He made it onto her back safely with the girl, and she began the swim back.

The three managed to reach the sand successfully before she fell to the knees with exhaustion, every part of her shaking.

"Charlie! Eliza!" the men hollered, grabbing them tightly in their arms. They were all crying except for the girl, having woken up upon hitting the sand.

Listening to their sobs of relief, she got to her feet wearily and walked away from the rejoicing parents.

Wiping the salt from her eyes with a shaky hand, she walked quickly across the sand once more.

Out of nowhere, an unnerving sound echoed across the clearing, followed by a low groaning noise. Searching the wreck, her eyes widened as she saw one of the larger boat remnants dissolve in flames. Fire had ravaged the carpentry, weakening the boat's infrastructure beyond repair. But within the ruins, something else caught her eye. The fuel tank.

Below the up-ended wreckage, three people stood together, unaware of what was happening. The debris continued to incinerate, blazes spreading closer every second to the part holding the fuel tank. The realization of what would happen struck her like a bucket of ice cold water.

"Move!" she screamed, cupping her dirty hands around her mouth. "Hey! You need to move!"

They couldn't hear her over everyone else. She began running.

"Move! Get up, get out now! The wreckage, move!"

The group looked up at her, stricken by the panic in her voice. Looking up, their countenances turned from confusion to fear almost instantly. They began running as well, with her behind them to force them onward out of the way.

Within mere seconds, the fire reached the fuel tank. The derelict wreckage burst into a fiery inferno, setting the place where the group had been standing to flames.

The force of the collapse sent them off their feat, with the heat of the explosion licking their backs. Spreading her arms, she ducked into them as she hit the sand hard.

The screaming increased with the fuel tank's implosion, high keening and shrieks finding their way to her ears. She winced, her head already pounding with a steady throb.

Removing her arms from the back of her head, she slowly looked up at the catastrophe. Orange flames reached towards the sky, black smoking trailing from the tallest blazes. She could feel the blistering heat from where she lay, feet away. Another round of thunder reverberated through the beach, almost seeming the shake the ground. Manic flashes of lightning danced wickedly across the sky, seeming to enjoy the devastation.

Looking back at the three people to her left, she half-hearted smiled upon seeing that they were all alive and staring back at her in an awestruck silence.

"You're all okay," she said, relieved.

"You saved us," one of them whispered, a young woman who looked to be her own age. Other than some singed hair, she looked to be of health. Her eyes filled with tears, which she wiped away with a grimy hand fitfully. "Thank you."

Another person, a plump, middle-aged woman, said the same and smiled. She had a long cut stretching along her face, and seemed to be slightly breathless, but looked to be uninjured.

The third, a tall man wearing dark clothing, said nothing. He watched her with an inscrutable expression, his jaw set and eyes narrowed fractionally.

After catching her breath, she got back to her feet, slightly off-balance. Placing her hands on her hips, she looked out across the beach. People were beginning to gather away from the wreckage, some attempting to gather their remaining belongings while others deemed it a hopeless attempt.

An overwhelming feeling of dismay nearly sent her back to the ground as any remaining adrenaline left her body. Leaning over, she placed her hands on her knees and squeezed her eyes tightly shut.

"Hey," a deep voice said. She looked up at the group to her left, suddenly dizzy.

"Yeah?"

"What's your name?" the man drawled, leaning on his knees. His voice carried the accent of a southern drawl. The other two women were looking at her as well, waiting for an answer.

Exhaling deeply, she turned to watch the others on the beach before answering. Swallowing thickly and resisting the urge to spit out a glob of what she was convinced was blood, she turned her head back to the group.

"Chelsea. My name's Chelsea."

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note:<em> _Hello readers. I'd like to thank you for reading this, and hope you enjoyed the prologue. To clear things up in case you were a bit confused, instead of it just being the usual five (Chelsea, Taro, Felicia, Natalie, and Elliot) who crashed on the Island, I changed it so that every Island resident unlocked in the game were the ones who crashed. As is, I do not own the game or franchise of Harvest Moon, nor do I own their characters. Tell me what you think in a review! I'd love to hear some feedback from my readers. Thanks again!_


	2. Chapter 2

Night fell on the Island with stealth and cunning, cloaking the castaways in its customary shadow.

Words seemed to have disappeared with the sunlight; there was little but the sound of the many crackling fires speckled across the sand intermittently, bestowing warmth and a source of light. Those who huddled around them were rendered silent, taciturn. Only an occasional murmur could be heard, a whispered conversation.

Chelsea watched the tamed flames dance before her eyes, slightly mesmerized by their brilliance. She held her palms up, feeling warmth tickle her skin with a feather light touch. Tearing her eyes from the fire, Chelsea glanced around the beach thoughtfully.

She was seated by four others, whom she had assumed to be around the same age as her. One of the faces she had recognized immediately, upon seating herself around the fire, as the man who had helped her pull the woman from the wreckage. They had shared a look, a brief nod. His name was Denny.

Looking around, Chelsea took in the familiar faces. A few feet behind her, the man she had seen lying unconscious on the beach was seated, the contours of his sharp face shadowed by the blazes. Although still pale, he seemed to be in good care. A young woman with similar looks was seated beside him, and a young blonde man across from her.

To her left, the woman she had pried from the wreckage lay, looking peaky. Her eyes were closed. Chelsea frowned, worried, until she made it the faint rise and fall of the woman's chest. Two young adults, who Chelsea inferred were her children, doted on her. The boy stroked her hair, an expression of shocked misery on his face, while the girl stared listlessly into their fire. An old man sat on a piece of broken wood across from them, looking to be in deep, deep thought.

Up ahead, the two men she remembered to have been the parents of the children at sea were seated, speaking in barely audible tones. The two children, Eliza and Charlie, were asleep now, their faces pale with exhaustion.

The fire farthest north from her own was occupied by none other than the three people who had stood under the segment of the boat holding the fuel tank. Julia, the younger woman, leaned her head on the shoulder of the older woman, whose name Chelsea learned to be Mirabelle. Mirabelle took Julia's hand in her own and squeezed it. The man who had asked her name sat at somewhat of a distance from them, and Chelsea could only see the side of him. She watched as he whittled away at a small stick with a pocket knife, eyes downward. Vaughn.

The sound of shifting sand stirred Chelsea from her observations, and she looked up. The old man who had been seated with the injured woman and her children had stood up, and was walking into a clearing in the center of the beach. More and more eyes turned upward as he approached the clearing, following his movements curiously.

Once his destination was reached, the man simply stood for a few moments, looking out at everyone as they stared back at him. After nearly half a minute of silence, he cleared his throat.

"As I'm sure most of you have noticed, we've landed ourselves on this nice little Island."

Somewhere amongst the crowd, somebody snorted. A low murmur broke out for a few seconds, before falling silent again. The man resumed his speech.

"We're here, stranded, on this here Island, and there's nothin' we can do about that now except deal with it. I'm not gonna stand here and pretend that I'm certain that people are out there lookin' for us, cause I'm not. I don't know how long we're gonna be stuck out here. Nobody does."

The tension in the air could be cut with a knife.

"So, in the meantime, I think we need to figure out what we're gonna do. My top two priorities right now are survival and rescue. "

He paused, and looked up at the sky. Without thinking, Chelsea followed his gaze and was met with a beautiful sight. Stars were dusted over nearly every spot of the night sky, reminding her of a dark satin sheet covered with diamonds. There were more than she had ever seen; in the city, the perpetual lights always seemed to hide most from sight.

Looking back down, Chelsea continued watching the man. He was no longer watching the sky either.

"The way I see it…we're gonna to have to work and live together, if we wanna survive. Who knows? Maybe all this happened for a reason." The man smiled to himself briefly, before continuing again. Chelsea heard a quiet scoff somewhere to her left.

"That said…I think it would be in our best bet to split up the duties amongst everyone-"

"What kind of duties are you talking about, Gramps?" a bold voice called out. It was the girl sitting beside the injured woman. Her arms were crossed defensively, and she looked skeptical.

"As I was gettin' to before I was interrupted, Natalie," the old man grumbled sternly. "There's a lot that must be done around here. For one, we gotta salvage all that we can from the wreckage. Debris, wood, metal, cord…anything that may be able to be used for shelter. Then we've gotta gather all passenger belongings together, and deem what can be used from that. "

"Does that include personal possessions?" a familiar voice drawled.

Along with several other people, Chelsea glanced waywardly at Vaughn. He was staring straight ahead in the direction of the old man, waiting for an answer.

Scratching his chin, the old man seemed to consider Vaughn's question seriously. He then shrugged. "Guess it all depends on if it could be useful to the rest of us, and just how personal of a possession it is to you."

Vaughn acknowledged his answer with a curt nod. His countenance remained unchanged.

"We've also gotta have some people map out the Island, to search for areas where shelter could be built, as well as fresh food and water sources. And then of course, we'll need some people to help build the shelters themselves."

"And the prospect of rescue? What of it?" another voice asked. This one was distinctly female, and Chelsea thought she could detect a faint accent behind the words. It was a single woman, seated alone at a fire a few feet behind Chelsea. She looked exotic, different from the rest.

The old man sighed. "Rescue's gonna be our second priority. Once food, water, and shelter are established and under control, we'll expand on our rescue signals. After we've explored the Island, we'll find the highest point on land and build a fire there. Among other things."

The woman nodded, seeming to think his answer was sufficient enough for the time being.

Nodding to himself, as though needing reassurance, the old man then stood straighter. "As for tonight…It's too late to start any real work duties. It could be dangerous in the dark, especially on unknown territory."

A collective sigh of relief seemed to spread throughout the castaways.

"Our best bet…would be to find shelter where we can. Stay warm and dry, and don't go wanderin' off. There's safety and comfort in numbers. My gut's telling me it'll be sunny tomorrow, so we shouldn't have to worry about the possibility of another storm rollin' in. Tomorrow morning, we'll begin assigning duties."

Quiet conversation broke the silence as everyone began moving to find a suitable shelter for the night. Before anyone went too far, Taro added one last comment.

"Gee, I almost forgot! Pardon this old brain o' mine, it can be forgetful. My name's Taro, if anyone needs me."

And with that, the old man Taro became the unofficial leader of the castaways.

"Well. Tomorrow should be fun. "

Chelsea looked up at Denny's, and couldn't help but to smile. At least he was still optimistic enough, despite the past several hours, to crack jokes.

"Oh, definitely," Chelsea agreed half-heartedly.

The guy next to her, Mark, got to his feet and stretched. "You know, this whole thing might not be so bad…Maybe old Taro's right. Maybe this all _did_ happen for a reason." His green eyes were clouded in thought.

The girl to the left of Chelsea, Lanna, snorted. "Yeah. And maybe we'll discover a five-star hotel hidden somewhere in the jungle. Wouldn't that be nice…"

"No need to be such a downer, Lanna," Pierre, the youngest of the group, reprimanded. Chelsea found herself thinking that no one could really take him seriously, with the combination of his clothing and childlike face. "This Island could be full of wonders! Full of undiscovered plants! _Ingredients! _Oh, the possibilities!"

Chelsea bit back laughter. If anything, she could say she admired Pierre's passionate enthusiasm.

"Whatever. Let's go try and find some shelter, huh? I'm going to need as much sleep as I can get, especially since I'll be sleeping on _sand_…"

Lanna crossed her arms and clenched her teeth, holding back a shiver. Now that it was brought to Chelsea's attention, the temperature _had _dropped a lot in the night…

As her group left behind the dying fire and began to search for available shelter, Chelsea found herself wandering away from them and moving towards where Taro was standing with his family. They didn't seem to be moving to find different shelter, and for a moment Chelsea wondered why not before seeing the injured woman sitting against a large boulder. When she saw she was awake, Chelsea felt a wave of relief.

"How are you doing?" she asked, crouching down to the woman's eye level.

Despite looking exhausted, the woman looked at Chelsea and smiled. "Much, much better. All thanks to you, of course. I…I think I owe you my life, whoever you are."

Chelsea felt herself grow warm. "Chelsea. And really, it was nothing. I saw that you needed help, and did what anyone would have done. I'm just glad you're okay."

The woman stuck out a hand in Chelsea's direction. "Well, it's great to officially meet you Chelsea. I'm Felicia. If there's anything, anything you ever need at all…Please, feel free to let me know."

Smiling, Chelsea nodded her assent. "Will do, Felicia. It wasn't just me, though…That man that helped me, Denny, was the real hero. I wouldn't have thought of using a tourniquet to stop the blood flow."

Felicia nodded. "Yes, he was rather heroic as well. Kept perfectly calm, and seemed to know exactly what he was doing. The next time I see him, I'll have to let him know," she said warmly.

Just then, the two young adults Chelsea had seen earlier walked back over to where she was speaking with Felicia. The young woman who had spoken out at Taro earlier repeated Felicia and stuck a hand out towards Chelsea.

"I'm Natalie," she said, shaking Chelsea's hand firmly. "I heard you pulled my mom out from some wreckage…I want to thank you. Who knows what would have happened if you hadn't?"

Chelsea shrugged, smiling. "I'm Chelsea. And you're welcome. I did what I would hope others would do for me, were I in that situation."

The boy standing next to Natalie cleared his throat then, looking bashful. Chelsea noticed he had a rather nasty looking black eye, and wondered what had happened for him to receive such a shiner.

"I'm Elliot. I know you've already heard this, but I'd just like to say it for myself…Thank you, for helping my mother out. It could have been a lot worse, if you had just left her like that. Our whole family is grateful to you."

"Nice to meet you, Elliot," Chelsea said. "You're welcome. Anyone with common sense would do the same, I hope. You see someone in need, and help them."

Elliot blushed and smiled. "I-I feel the same way. Thanks again."

Chelsea nodded and bid the family goodbye, feeling almost optimistic despite the circumstances.

Looking around, she realized that nearly everyone had found a suitable place to hunker down for the night. Trudging through the wreckage, she travelled along the beach in search of shelter.

Her feet aching, Chelsea settled for a hollowed out section of the boat for the night. Taking her jacket off, Chelsea splayed it over herself to use as a blanket before curling up against the hard sand.

All around her, people were gradually succumbing to sleep, drained by the day's trauma. The conversation gradually died down to the low murmur from earlier; Chelsea found herself absorbed in the sound of the waves crashing gently against the shore. Growing relaxed, her eyes began to feel more and more heavy.

Several yards away, Chelsea watched a man sit against a piece of wreckage nearest the ocean. She could only see his side profile, the same as earlier. He took off his hat slowly, placing it on the ground beside him, as sea foam nipped at his boots. He said not a word to anyone.

She wondered if he liked the ocean.

With a last coherent thought, Chelsea closed her eyes completely, and felt herself drift away into sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Chelsea hissed as water trickled through her scalp, leaving a trail of fire behind. Clenching her teeth, she resisted the urge to whimper. She waited a few moments before going at it a third time, already bracing herself for the familiar sting of the ocean's salt entering her wounds.

Many years ago, a friend of hers had told her that salt stopped bacteria from replicating and acted as a disinfectant to stop infection from happening. She only hoped that her friend was right, and that salt water would suffice as the next best thing. And being unable to see the entire span of her head wounds, Chelsea made sure to douse her _entire_ scalp with it.

Needless to say, she wasn't having a great hair day.

Squeezing the excess water from the tips of her hair, Chelsea watched the drops hit the surface of the waves faintly. Tiny ripples diverged from them, causing the reflection staring back at her to flicker slightly.

A mixture of dirt, blood, and soot was smeared across her complexion, almost so that she looked to be of a different skin tone. She could just make our purples smudges lingering beneath her eyes, as though someone had painted them there. Her lips were chapped and cut, her hair matted and clotted with blood as well.

But her appearance was the least of Chelsea's concerns. Hunger nagged her from the deepest pit of her stomach, seeming to gnaw away at her innards. The sensation was only surpassed by the urgent feeling of thirst, her parched throat and her inability to keep her mind off of water for more than a few minutes.

She sighed, standing straight up and listening as her knees popped. Finding fresh water was incredibly important. If she was feeling this way already, then she couldn't imagine the children holding out that much longer.

Looking around, Chelsea realized now that the majority of the castaways were just now awaking. She herself had awoken at dawn, unable to remain asleep any longer due to her sleep position. With a crick in her neck and sore muscles, Chelsea had groggily found her way to the water without disturbing the others.

Those awake enough to notice her smiled, some wishing her a good morning. Slightly surprised, though in a pleasant way, Chelsea reciprocated the greetings warmly. It was strange, how optimistic this group of people seemed to be. It was almost as though they had entirely forgotten that they were stranded on a seemingly uninhabited island.

Wandering over to the clearing from the previous night, Chelsea found a small group already gathered there, discussing the day's plans. She wasn't surprised to see Taro in the middle, speaking boldly of what today's "duties" would be. Mirabelle and the two fathers of the children seemed to be listening with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

"Good morning," Chelsea bid them with a small smile. Turning towards her, the three regarded her in a friendly manner, although their smiles seemed taut and somewhat forced.

"What's the plan of action for today?"

"Ah, Chelsea, right?" Taro asked, as Chelsea nodded. "Perfect timing. From what I've observed so far, you seem to have spoken to most of the people here…We could use your input on where each castaway would be best suited."

"Hmm…I'm not entirely sure," Chelsea said quietly, suddenly feeling unsure. Taro overestimated her; while she had talked to the majority of the castaways, she was nowhere close to knowing all of their names, let alone their skills and abilities.

"If I were you…I would sort everyone depending on what they were good at, and where they would be of best use. Like, uh…Well, for example, those best suited for the building of shelters would probably be the people with strength or who understand construction."

Chelsea's eyes slid back up to eye level with the people around her, and she was surprised to see them all listening with rapture.

"Well I'll be, kid," one of the fathers said, a very large man with an intimidating air about him. "That's actually pretty smart thinking."

"I agree with Gannon," the other father said, a man of Asian descent. "That would make the most sense."

"Good thinkin' Chelsea! Don't know why I didn't think of it myself," Taro seemed to grumble. "Anyways, I reckon you're right on that. That's what I'll do during this meeting; find out what everyone can do."

By this time, everyone had awoken and was gathering around Chelsea and the others, as they had done last night. Just as Taro had been unofficially deemed the one "in charge" around here, the empty clearing had been declared as the unofficial meeting place for the castaways.

"Alright, listen up everyone! We've got a lot to do today; this ain't just some fun game we're playing here. This is our survival we're talking about!

Chelsea silently urged him to get on with his point already. It seemed to work. Everyone watched him in silence, waiting for him to go on.

"Now that I have your attention…I've come up with five different tasks that we're going to have to do if we're gonna have any chance of survivin' more than a few days here. We're gonna need everyone pitchin' in to help as much as possible. The tasks I've come up with are salvaging, gathering, mapping, searching, and building."

"Now, as Chelsea here has pointed out," Taro paused, grinning over in Chelsea's direction, his mustache twitching. Everyone's eyes moved in her general direction as she gave a tight smile. "We're going to need to sort everyone based on where they would be of the most use..."

By the time a quarter of an hour passed, nearly everyone had been put into a fitting group. Incredibly pleased with himself, Taro's mustache twitched vigorously.

Breaking off from the meeting, the castaways dispersed into their particular task groups. Chelsea had been placed into one of the, as she liked to call them, subunits of the searching group. The group itself was made up of seven people that were to search for sources of food, water, and places where shelter could be built. Chen, the father of Charlie, and a man named Nathan made up the subunit that was to search among the stretch of land immediately north of the crash site. Natalie and Pierre were to go off towards the west, and Denny and Lanna off towards the east. South was the beach.

Chelsea, as the last person sorted in the search group, was allowed to pick a group to be a part of. After some consideration, she decided to accompany Chen and Nathan. The two other groups seemed surprised to see her voluntarily choose to go along with the two middle-aged men, but Chelsea simply smiled at them. She had her reasons. No one knew when they were going to be rescued; might as well take as many opportunities as she could to get to know everyone.

The search group set off through the clearing exiting the beach area, before splitting up to go their separate ways. Natalie and Pierre took off west across what looked to be a questionably safe wooden bridge and into a forest-like area. Denny and Lanna set off east on a similar bridge, which instead seemed to lead to more open land. This left Chelsea and her subunit the responsibility of scouring farther up north.

Almost immediately after leaving the crash site, the group stopped in surprise. They had taken no more than twenty steps, and there they were, right in front of their eyes.

"Are those…are those buildings?" Chelsea asked, breaking the silence.

"Yes…yes, I think they are," Chen replied quietly, his face dumbstruck.

"Who do you think built them?" Nathan asked, his round face looking puzzled. "And where are they now?"

"I don't know…but I don't think they're here anymore," Chelsea said, her eyes widening as she took in not just one, but _four_ buildings. Her youth aiding her, Chelsea sprinted up forward to the closest one.

It was very old, that much Chelsea could tell. Sliding her hand across the woodwork, it felt soft and weather-worn, the wooden planks looking half-rotten. An opening where a door would be was covered up by several nailed on boards, and the roof was peeling off shingles.

"This was built a long time ago," Chen said from behind Chelsea, affirming her suspicions. "You can tell by the deterioration."

"If people lived here at one point…" Chelsea murmured, the words spilling from her mouth, mid-thought. "Then why did they leave?"

"Goddess," Nathan muttered, staring at the building as though it would suddenly collapse to dust.

The trio continued onward, exploring the three remaining buildings with the same thoughts in mind. All of the buildings looked to have been built around the same time, Chen had thought, as the deterioration of the roof and wood was similar amongst them all.

"Do you think we'd be able to use these as shelters?" Chelsea asked, wording the question that had undoubtedly been on each of their minds.

"I don't see why not," Chen said, a small smile forming on his face. "We could just replace the wood…plenty of trees here…Make sure the roof doesn't collapse or anything…This could be a lucky break."

Smiling, Chelsea allowed herself to feel the tiniest inkling of hope.

As the three fell quiet, immersed in their own thoughts, Chelsea noticed a most peculiar noise disrupting the absolute silence. Furrowing her eyebrows, she listened more closely. It was a low gurgling sound, almost an indistinguishable babble…and yet, Chelsea knew it sounded familiar.

Walking slowly towards the sound, she only had to take a few feet before recognizing the sound completely, and seeing its source as well. Her knees nearly buckled as a long, stretching river suddenly appeared before her eyes, cerulean and shimmering.

Why hadn't they noticed it before?

Running as fast as he legs could take her, Chelsea skidded to a halt as she nearly fell into the water. Lowering herself on her knees, she hesitantly cupped some of it into her palms, ignoring her good sense that told her to check if it was fresh water. Taking a small sip, she nearly fell over in relief.

It was fresh.

The two men hurriedly ran up behind Chelsea, panting and wheezing with the exertion of trying to keep up with her. Seeing her dip another hand into the river and tip it into her mouth, they imitated her positioning.

"Are you sure it's fresh? What if it's polluted? Are you sure it's safe?-"

Chelsea turned to Nathan, swallowing another mouthful of it. "There's little to no sign of human inhabitation here, Nathan. Who would pollute it? And it tastes pretty dang clean to me."

Their thirst proving stronger than their doubt, the men began spooning the fresh water into their mouths ravenously. After several minutes of doing so, they stood up, quenched and reenergized.

"We have to go back to camp to tell the others. By now, most of them are probably dehydrated. And we'll have to say something about the buildings as possible shelters, as well."

Chelsea nodded at Chen, as did Nathan. The two men set off south, in the direction of the beach, before realizing Chelsea wasn't following.

Nathan turned back to see her still standing there, turned in the opposite direction. "Aren't you coming, Chelsea?"

Chelsea glanced back towards him thoughtfully. "Oh, yeah…Hey, don't wait up for me. I'll be there in a few minutes. There's just something I want to check out real fast."

Looking somewhat skeptical, the two men hesitated before nodding slowly, then turning again to enter the camp once more.

Checking to see that they had gone on, Chelsea turned back so she was facing northward. While she had been investigating the sides of one of the dilapidated buildings, she had happened to notice battered stone path a few yards away, overgrown with weeds. She hadn't said anything to the other two men, in case it had turned out to be nothing.

Approaching it cautiously, Chelsea followed the disheveled trail warily, not knowing what to expect. Pushing aside bushes and weeds, she stepped into the opening slowly.

Her jaw dropped upon seeing clearing before her.

It was an enormous expanse of land, an amount she hadn't been expecting in the least. If she had to make an estimate, Chelsea would have guessed several acres in the very least. Fields seemed to stretch out across the grassy area forever, going so far that Chelsea couldn't see where they ended. They were filled with numerous stones, lumber, and weed, the first telltale sign suggesting long time neglect.

The river continued alongside the left side of the property, serving as one of the borders. Trees lined the rest of the property, green and thriving. Running forward a few steps, Chelsea could make out buildings on the other side of the field. There were two, one bigger than the other but looking quite similar.

Closer to her side of the field, two more buildings stood, both smaller than the others. One looked more like a shed, used for some kind of storage. To her right, a quaint house stood, its red roof home to several species of moss.

Back in its prime, the property must have been a gorgeous sight.

Suddenly, a gust of wind took Chelsea by surprise, whipping her hair wildly around her face and nearly knocking her over. A loud banging noise startled her into alertness, and Chelsea turned in the direction of the house again.

The wing had flung the house's front door wide open, revealing the house's dark inside. A spark of curiosity ignited within her at the sight.

Creeping forward, the familiar feeling of adrenaline making its appearance, Chelsea approached the house with trepidation. Peering around the door, she half expected someone to be inside, prepared to tell her to get out of their house.

But there was no one. Chelsea stepped inside fully, her arms deflating at her sides as she took in the house.

It was sparsely decorated, only containing the basics, as though someone had left in a hurry and could only take small belongings. Walking forward, Chelsea passed an old dresser, dust coating the furniture all over. She stopped by a large bed, noticing the unmade sheets. Nearby, a small crib sat gathering dust, shadowed by an old rocking chair. Something pulled at Chelsea's heart at the sight.

There was a kitchen with endless appliances, a fridge, and a bathroom with a grand bathtub. Crossing the house, Chelsea rubbed away some of the dust from the house's only window. It was cracked on the outside.

Shuffling slowly towards the exit, something caught her eye at the last minute. It was a large wooden chest with a clasp.

Crouching down, Chelsea wordlessly tried the clasp, expecting failure. It opened.

Her eyes narrowing in confusion, Chelsea stared at the items sitting in the chest. Why would somebody keep these in their house? A large hammer, a watering can, a hoe…

As she picked a tool up, something at the bottom of the chest shifted. Digging through the rest of the chest's items, Chelsea managed to pull out a tan colored bag. Bewildered, she shook it, only to hear a light rattling noise come from within. Turning the bag around, she noticed a small picture printed on the bag. It was of a potato.

Comprehension dawned on Chelsea, her eyes widening at the realization. She looked to the hoe again, and the watering can. Putting the tools back haphazardly, Chelsea rushed outside once more, taking another look at the buildings.

One of them was a barn. Another a coop, another a stable. The field, it used to grow crops. That's what the tools were for, and the bags. Bags of seeds, not yet planted.

She had found an abandoned farm.

In a burst of speed, Chelsea was sprinting off the farm again, through the wall of weeds and bushes, down the pathway that led to the beach. She had to find Taro, she had to tell _someone._ What did this mean for the castaways?

Rushing onto the beach, Chelsea nearly tripped as her feet sunk into the sand without warning. Regaining her balance, her eyes eagerly flitted across her surroundings, looking for the old man. He wasn't hard to pick out in a crowd…where else could he be?

Dashing forward a few feet, Chelsea realized that many of the castaways must have left, exploring the island. Only a handful or so remained, and Taro was not one of them.

In the distance, towards her left, a steady chopping noise drew Chelsea's attention away. Pivoting, she ran towards the noise, hoping whoever it was would have some sort of clue as to where Taro had gone.

Chelsea slowed her steps as the noise grew louder, the sound of wood splitting into pieces under the force of an axe. Chelsea raised her eyebrows as the identity of the person instructing the axe came into view.

"Excuse me," she said at first, not wanting to bother him but watching as Vaughn swung the axe down again on the fell tree with a grunt. His shirt and jacket were strewn off to the side in a messy pile, his hat adorning them on the top. She examined the pull and flex of his back and shoulder muscles as he tore through the wood mercilessly, the ripple of his tendons as he shifted his positioning. He showed no sign of being aware of her presence, and began another hard swing. Shaking her head, Chelsea scoffed at herself.

"Hey," she tried again, a little louder and harsher. She was growing impatient. "Hey Vaughn."

He heard her this time; a sharp glance in her direction told her he hadn't known she was there. Quickly he finished his pull, seeming to slice into the tree as easily as a knife into cake before drawing it out again.

"Afternoon, ma'am. There something you need?" he intoned, drawl as present as ever. "Or are you just here to keep me company?"

Chelsea sighed through her nose at the heavy sarcasm coloring his tone.

"Have you seen Taro? You know… old guy, caterpillar mustache-"

Vaughn gave her another withering glance, a bead of sweat sliding down his face as he struck the wood once more.

"'Course I know who he is. So what I've seen him or not?"

"I need to find him. I've…found something."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Chelsea said, growing irritated. This was getting her nowhere closer to finding Taro. "Listen, if you could just tell me where you saw him-"

"Don't reckon I said I ever _did_ see him," Vaughn countered, a hint of a smirk on his lips. Wiping a corded arm across his forehead, Chelsea caught a glance of his eyes, dancing with dark amusement.

"Alright, obviously you haven't seen him, so I'll just be on my way now-"

"Hold your horses, will you? What's got you so hot and bothered?"

Narrowing her eyes at him slightly, Chelsea debated whether or not it would matter if she told him her findings or not. Why would he care, anyway?

He met her stare blankly for a few moments, seemingly bored, before resuming his axe work once more.

"I found a farm."

His axe hit the wood with a dull _thud _and stuck as Vaughn stopped. His silver eyebrows furrowed, and he looked up at her with a strange expression.

"You found a _farm_."

"Yeah. I did. Past all the buildings we found a little north of here. There's an old abandoned field there, full of debris. A little old house, a barn, and a coop. Even a stable."

He was silent as Chelsea explained her discovery, staring off into the opposite direction. After a few seconds of silence passed following the end of her explanation, he turned back to look at her.

"Show me."

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note:<em> _Hello Readers! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and that nothing was too confusing. I hope Vaughn's not to OOC; I'm trying to portray him in a slightly different way than he's usually portrayed, while still keeping to his usual character. Don't worry, you'll be seeing lots more of him in upcoming chapters. Anyways, I'd just like to say a big thanks to all my readers, and thanks to those who review as well! Feedback is great, whether it's praise or constructive. All of you really do make me smile, I appreciate it!_ _Thanks again!_


	4. Chapter 4

"I just….I just don't understand it," Chelsea said, after a long silence had passed. She had emptied the wooden chest out completely, surprised to find it holding more than she had thought. A few more tools, plus several more seed bags. There had even been a few strange bottles mixed in, which Vaughn had identified as animal medicine.

"What's there not to understand?" he responded from across the room. Vaughn was facing away from her, rummaging through the dusty cabinet Chelsea had noticed before. She could hear the rustling and shifting of objects within its drawers, but paid little attention to the noise. Her mind was stuck on the bigger picture. She didn't entirely expect him to understand, or even care.

But perhaps Chelsea was being too judgmental of him. She hardly knew him, after all.

"It's just…It's almost as if something just right up snatched them from this place. Whoever lived here, I mean. It's like whatever caused them to leave took them by surprise. It's unnerving."

Although she didn't see it, Vaughn turned to frown at her briefly. "You're over thinking it. Maybe they got tired of livin' in the sticks and went back to civilization."

Besides neither animal nor person being present, it was almost as if life on the farm had simply been frozen in time. Upon closer exploration, it was Vaughn who discovered the feeding bins. It had been a shock to see an abundance of corn-based feed flood from the chicken coop's bin once it was opened. Vaughn seemed less amused by the discovery than Chelsea, as it was _his_ boots that were buried in it.

It was the same with the stable and the barn, as well. The feeding bins were chalk full of food, suggesting that whoever the farmer was had anticipated having enough to feed them far in advance. The feed would have lasted for months, at least.

Chelsea's suspicions were only solidified as they had examined the home more closely. This time, it was Chelsea who, against good judgment, decided to open the refrigerator. The pungent stench of rotten food invaded her senses almost immediately. Who would keep a refrigerator stocked full of crops if they were planning on leaving?

As she had staggered away from the kitchen, holding her nose and willing herself not to be sick, she had seen Vaughn shaking his head at her slowly, a low rumble emanating from his chest. Needless to say, it was Chelsea who was less than amused by this particular discovery.

Standing up, Chelsea stretched before turning to Vaughn. "We should go. Before we do anything else, I need to tell Taro about-"

Chelsea watched as he casually pocketed two bottles of some kind of liquid from the cabinet before looking back at her guilelessly. Looking at them more closely, Chelsea assumed them to be some sort of alcohol.

"Did you just steal those bottles from the cabinet drawers?"

Taking one of them from his pockets, he looked at it contemplatively before looking back up at Chelsea. "I reckon I did. Why, you want one?"

Chelsea frowned. "Doesn't that seem kind of wrong to you, stealing from someone's home?"

"Nope. Way I see it, they're not gonna use it now. Might as well make good use of 'em. You want one or no?"

"No…"

Vaughn shrugged. "No skin off my nose." Without another word, he strode off past her, undeniably expecting her to follow after him. Sighing to herself, Chelsea had no other option as she ran after him.

What a strange, strange man he was.

**0o0o0o0o**

As the pair passed through the entrance to the beach, it was evident that they had missed a lot in the time they had spent investigating the farmland. Had they really been out there for that long? As Chelsea took in the shadows cast by the wreckage, and the setting sun, she estimated that it had to have been several hours since she first set off with Nathan and Chen. Time passed by quickly on the island.

Taro stood in the middle of the clearing again, with most of, if not all, the castaways gathered around him. Fleetingly Chelsea wondered if this many meetings a day would become a normal thing, before she noticed the hunk of hollow wreckage sitting off to the side of him. It was full of something, something colorful, with varying shapes and sizes…As soon as she realized what it was, it took all of her self-restraint not to go running up to take it all for herself.

Food! Some of the searchers must have hit the jackpot somewhere. Although, Chelsea wasn't necessarily surprised. On an island like so, uninhabited and full of natural resources, food must be abundant.

Her eyes scanning the crowd, Chelsea smiled as two pairs of waving arms summoned her over. Leaving Vaughn behind, she ran over to Elliot and Natalie as quickly as she could without drawing too much attention to herself.

"You're late," Natalie commented in a whisper. "No big deal, though. The old geezer's just rambling on about food rations."

"-create a system that assures each person receives enough food to sustain themselves. Hoarding of the food is forbidden, and we will have patrols going out daily in order to collect more-"

"He sounds so official," Chelsea murmured. "He's taking this very seriously."

Natalie scoffed, unconvinced, while at the same time Elliot replied, "Yeah…but I think he knows what he's doing. He's probably the best candidate for leader right now. He knows all about living off the land. Used to be a real farmer, you know."

Chelsea stared at him, astonished. "_What?"_ she whispered urgently, not wanting to draw attention to herself.

Elliot blinked, suddenly unsure. "H-he used to be a farmer in his younger days…A real good one, my mom says. That's how he can predict the weather so well."

Chelsea turned back towards Taro, looking at him in a new light. She would have never, _ever_ guessed…that this old, wisp of a man once ran a farm, and was apparently quite good at it. But the more she thought about it, the more sense it made…How else could he have known that the weather today was to be sunny, cloudless? Or how else was his uncanny knowledge of the land and its resources supposed to be explained?

"Chelsea?"

To her right, both Elliot and now Natalie as well were watching her, seemingly waiting for an answer to their unasked questions.

"I found a farm." It slipped out before she could stop herself. Silently Chelsea cursed herself; she didn't want word to spread of the farm yet. How would everyone react?

Expressions of shock and confusion passed through their visages, but before they could ask anything further, the group of castaways surrounding them broke apart. Most of them were moving towards the cornucopia-like piece of debris holding the food; Chelsea took it as a sign that some sort of agreement had successfully been made concerning the handout of food. Unfortunately, as more people began milling around the food source, Chelsea quickly lost track of Taro.

"Taro, Taro!" she called out, running off without another word of explanation to the siblings. "Taro!"

Zigzagging through the throng of people, many of whom gave her rather curious looks, Chelsea sighed in mild frustration as she finally found him. He was talking to several other castaways, most of whom looked to be listening to him deeply. At this rate, it would be all night before she got a chance to speak with him.

_It's not like it's a big deal or anything_, she found herself thinking in a rare moment of true irritation. _Just a farm, that's all. _

"Pardon me, my lady…Would you care for some fruit?"

A man had approached Chelsea in her angry stupor, and upon turning, Chelsea found herself face to face with a young blonde man, holding out fruits to her in an offer.

"U-um…Why, yes. I would love some. Thank you."

The man smiled, a charming grin that seemed to dazzle. Chelsea couldn't help but to return the gesture as she graciously took the fruits from him.

"My name is William Terry Louis Andrew Carrick Jonathan Dredge Hams Reading Roger Southwark Alnwick Plymouth Junior Regison III."

"O-oh, wow…That's a very long name…"

The man laughed, a high, clear sound. "Yes, it is quite the mouthful. Worry not, my lady. You may call me Will."

"It's wonderful to meet you, Will. My name is Chelsea."

"What a delightful name. It is only fitting, for such a fair maiden as yourself." The man smiled again, and Chelsea, despite the fact that she rarely was affected by such charisma, was besides herself.

"Chelsea, would you be ever so kind as to grant me the honor of having this celebratory feast with me?"

"Sure, why not?" Chelsea said with a smile. It would be refreshing to share a meal with someone, even more so with someone kind and agreeable like Will.

Finding a vacant log to sit on, the two settled down for the first meal to be had since landing the previous afternoon. Chelsea hadn't realized just how hungry she had been until she took a bite of a ripe, reddish-yellow fruit. As soon as the fruit touched her tongue, an explosion of flavor sent her taste buds soaring. Sweet, piney juice flooded her mouth, and Chelsea recognized the juice as being from a mango.

"Interesting, is it not, how lovely food tastes after not eating for a long time."

Chelsea nodded, agreeing with him. She then turned towards him, recalling something. "I remember seeing you from the first night. You sat with the pale man who was unconscious on the beach…And a girl, who looked related to them."

Will nodded, looking very regal. Despite the dirt that was smeared across his clothing and skin, and his bedraggled blonde hair, he managed to maintain a very sophisticated, put-together air.

"Indeed, they are related. The man is my Uncle Regis, and his daughter Sabrina is my dear cousin. As fate would have it, we were traveling together abroad when the ship was destroyed."

"I'm sorry," Chelsea murmured, genuine sympathy in her words. She felt lucky all of a sudden. At least she hadn't been on a vacation, of sorts, when the ship had crashed.

"No matter, dearest Chelsea. Unbeknownst to my uncle and cousin, a part of me feels rather happy in washing up on this island."

Puzzled, Chelsea simply looked at him, waiting for an explanation. He seemed to understand, and smiled gently.

"You see, my lady, I have traveled quite a lot, as of late. My father has told me to see the world, wanting me to gain knowledge of the many cultures and lifestyles of the world."

Will paused then, his smile deflating just slightly as he looked out across the beach towards the ocean. Chelsea followed his gaze, taking in the sun as he sunk lower beneath the water's surface. Light pinks and oranges illustrated the sky amongst the blue, making for a truly gorgeous sunset. She could just begin to make out the thousands of stars dotting the sky, and somewhere amongst them the crescent moon.

"I have been accompanied part of the way by my relatives, which has been a comfort. But I have found, throughout all of my travels, that I grow to be more lonely and homesick with each place I leave behind. In a way, I dare say that I am almost glad to be stranded here, as it means I may not have to leave again for quite a while."

"I understand where you're coming from."

They were silent for a few moments, watching as the waves crashed on the sand gently, the last of the day's sun reflecting against them.

"This island suits me quite well, from what I have seen today. I have faith that it is very possible for us to survive here."

"Have you seen much of the island already?" Chelsea asked, surprised by his statement.

Will nodded. "I was placed into the mapping group, along with a quite admirable young maiden who goes by the name of Lily. With the amount I have traveled, I have become adept at cartography. We have begun to scale the island and its entirety, while mapping out important land features. From what we have seen so far, this island is very remarkable."

"Wow," Chelsea replied, somewhat impressed. She, herself, could barely read a map key.

Before she could say anything further, however, a woman traipsed up to their sitting place quietly. She was the exotic looking woman from the day before, who had brought up the idea of rescue.

"Ah, Lily," Will said with a smile. "How good it is to see you again."

"My humble greetings. I apologize, I do not intend to interrupt, but Taro requests your presence. There is something pertaining to the map that he wishes to discuss with us."

"I shall be there at once," Will said. The woman, Lily, nodded at them both before walking away. He turned apologetically towards Chelsea, looking regretful.

"It is very reluctantly that I must depart from you now, dear Chelsea. I humbly apologize for leaving so suddenly, but I cannot let down those who need me."

Chelsea smiled, waving him off. "Oh, you're fine. Go on, they need help. Thank you for the food, and thank you for sharing this meal with me."

Looking relieved, Will smiled the most charming of smiles. There was no doubt in Chelsea's mind that many a young woman had once pined to be at his side. "Thank you, fair maiden, for understanding, and for allowing me the pleasure of dining with you as well. I wish to speak with you again, and soon. But for now, I must wish you adieu." Leaning forward, he kissed her hand in farewell. Chelsea felt her cheeks grow warm, to her own dismay, but said nothing.

With a final wave, Will set off in the same direction Lily had left from, his blonde hair blowing in the wind. Chelsea shook her head, smiling. She had certainly never met anyone like Will before.

By now, the sun had fallen completely below the horizon. People were settling down, having eaten and drank from the river. Most had wandered back to the shelter they had taken the night before. Chelsea imagined they would be using these temporary shelters for at least a few more days, until the buildings were properly explored and the worst parts fixed up. She hoped the storm wouldn't return.

In the meantime, Chelsea sighed in satisfaction as she saw Taro, alone, watching the castaways with a satisfied look in his eyes. Stumbling across the sand towards him, Chelsea would finally be able to tell him of her findings, something she had been waiting to do for what seemed like days.

As soon as he saw her coming, he smiled, recognizing her. Chelsea pulled him to the side, where she was sure nobody would overhear. She didn't want everyone to know quite yet, else there be pandemonium. Three people was already pushing it. Asking if she could talk to him, he obliged, curious as to what she was so eager about.

The words slipped out from her mouth easily as she launched into her findings. Almost instantly, she found them replaced by a small, but inarguably there, feeling of hope.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note:<em> _Greetings again, readers! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and thank you for reading as always._ _I would like to address the placement of Will and Lily as characters in this fic, despite it taking place on The Island of Happiness, not Sunshine Islands. Alas, I cannot use SI's map because I don't know it. :( I tried to include Will and Lily in this however, for I am planning on them both having essential roles in the plot. I'd appreciate it very much if you let me know if I was portraying them OOC or anything, or what I could do to put them more in character._ _Thanks again for all the feedback I'm getting, and happy reading!_


	5. Chapter 5

As the time of dawn approached, steadfast and brilliant, and the stars were beckoned away by the vanishing moon, Chelsea slipped away from camp without so much of a sound.

Meandering through the western town, as the builders' crew had begun to call it, she watched as the birds flitted from tree to tree, subdued, singing their melodies of the morning in the otherwise silence.

As she approached the river, meandering lazily through the far side of the farmland, the quiet babbling sound emanating from it grew steadily louder until it was the only thing she could hear.

Pausing before the riverbank, Chelsea hesitated. Shifting from foot to foot, she experimentally dipped her foot into the current. With a hissing gasp, she withdrew it quickly, reluctance marring her intentions. Despite the warmer summer weather, the river was as icy as ever. She couldn't imagine what it was like in the winter…

Closing her eyes, Chelsea sighed as she searched deep within for an ounce of reckless audacity. She knew she had to get into the river, that much was clear. It had been a week since the initial crash, and she hadn't cleansed herself once, a fact she harbored with repulsion. With the business of ensuring the castaways' survival, the discovery of the farm, and a general lack of privacy, she simply hadn't found a time where bathing was possible.

As it was, in order to guarantee the free time and privacy to do so, Chelsea had woken up at the crack of dawn and snuck off to the river. She was sure, vehemently _praying_, that today would be like most other days in which the majority of the castaways slept in for a few more hours. At the very least, she hoped they wouldn't have the sudden urge to wander about the farmland.

Just in case, Chelsea decided to play it safe and to strip down only to her undergarments. It _would _be her luck to be caught au naturel.

She found herself wondering how any of the castaways managed to look at her, let alone talk with her, without becoming extremely disgusted. It was almost as if a layer of grime coated her skin, making her skin appear a tone darker than it was. Her fingernails were caked with a combination of blood, dirt, and sand. After this was done, she would make her rounds, asking if a nail clipper had been found in the wreckage. And more so, she was worried about the fate of her hair; could it be cleaned at all? Matted, tangled, and dirty beyond recognition, Chelsea would sure it would take up the majority of her time in the river.

She didn't even want to _think_ about what she smelled like.

Hopping lightly to fight back the chill of the morning breeze as it blew past her, Chelsea knew she had to do it soon. The sun was rising quickly, and her time for privacy was running out. Briefly, she pondered the best strategy for getting into the water, before deciding it would be best to just jump in. Get it over with all at once.

She tried to convince herself it was just like removing a band-aid. The best way to do so was to rip it off quickly, rather than stretching out the process.

Chelsea took a last, deep breath, preparing herself for the inevitably cold submersion. Taking several steps back, she resisted the urge to scream as she launched herself completely into the river.

Cold hit her like an electric current, volt after volt diffusing through her body, turning the blood in her veins to ice. Her heart rate soared, pumping wildly in her ears as her lungs recovered from the shock. Her toes brushed the bottom of the river, rustling sediment and silt. Relieved that it wasn't deep, Chelsea kicked toward the surface quickly. As soon as her head broke the surface, crisp morning air rushed into her lungs gratefully. A strange sense of déjà vu lingered at the back of her mind as she sucked in the oxygen, but it disappeared as quickly as it came.

Paddling towards the more shallow zone of the river, Chelsea couldn't stop a wide grin from stretching across her face. While it was cold, piercingly so, Chelsea felt more alert than ever since crashing on the island. Her pulse beating energetically and her body stimulated, Chelsea ducked back under the gentle waves willingly.

Scrubbing at her skin methodically, Chelsea observed her skin tone lightening as the particles of dirt clinging to her skin drifted away. While she found herself missing soap, the water alone still managed to do miracles. Soon enough, her complexion had reverted back to the milky fairness Chelsea had always known. She wondered if living on the island would, in time, grant her the slightly sun-kissed complexion that seemed to evade her so well in the city. With the constant overlook of smog and buildings, the sun had rarely touched Chelsea's skin at all. It was only on the few and far between trips to her grandparents' farm that Chelsea's skin had been able to absorb any color at all. Faintly, she could recall being delightfully surprised as a child to notice the ample scattering of freckles that would appear across the bridge of her nose, the slight browning of the skin on her arms.

Feeling better already, Chelsea summoned all of the patience she could muster as she began to sift through the rat's nest that was her hair. While it took much longer than her skin, Chelsea was gradually rewarded as her fingers became less tangled in the strands, and the knots began to vanish. It felt surprisingly soft and smooth, a welcome change from the mess it had previously been.

By the time she finished, the sky had brightened considerably and the sun had begun its ascent into the sky. Drifting towards the riverbank, Chelsea managed to clamber out of the water and onto the dry grass with minimal effort. Sprawling onto her back, she lay there as the sun dried the water from her skin, replacing it with warmth and the heady scent of the sun.

Minutes passed before she found the motivation to get back on her feet. Warm, clean, and feeling better than she had in days, Chelsea made her way towards where her pile of clothes waited for her. Pulling them on over clean skin was slightly disappointing, so she vowed to wash them in the river next time as well. Squeezing the excess water from her hair, Chelsea set off in the direction of the beach once more. As she walked, she could hear the noise of voices coming from the shores and sped up slightly, wondering what was going on this early in the morning, if anything.

Today would mark the seventh day on the island, a week away from civilization and in the "sticks", as Vaughn had called it. Working together, the castaways had accomplished a great deal during that time. Proper rations were settled. The water taken from the river was both purified and desalinated before use, by way of boiling over a log fire. While Chelsea herself had drank from the river and hadn't suffered any consequences, she figured it wouldn't do any harm to be safe. Nonetheless, she didn't always opt out of the old scoop-it-up-with-your-hands method either.

The island was found to contain endless natural resources, most notably a wide selection of edible foods. When it came to identifying safe foods from poisonous ones, Taro came in great handy. With his help, the castaways were able to add roots, berries, nuts, mushrooms, and plants to their previous diet of fruit and herbs.

Denny became a fast favorite of everyone on the fourth day, after managing to catch several fish from a fishing pole fashioned with string, a stick carved into the shape of a hook, and a barb. He was all smiles that night as people, dining on his fish, came up to thank him again and again. He merely shrugged and credited his success to his lifelong profession as a fisherman. Chelsea later found out that he was just glad to contribute in some way to the castaways' survival. Ever since, Denny could be found faithfully sitting on the ocean dock or the river shore, happy to wait for the tiniest pull of his line.

Progress had been made with the shelters, as well. Several more buildings had been discovered by both the mapping and search crews. On the eastern side of town, three of the buildings were habitable, while on the western side, there were four discovered that first day. There was a small shack, of sorts, located on the beach that Denny had claimed as his own, and then the cottage on the farmland.

Another source of fresh water had been located behind the forest; a large, circular pond, free of algae. It had been Chelsea's subunit who had discovered both it and the building residing next to it. While it was thought by Chen to have the same level of deterioration as the buildings in both the eastern and western towns, it was deemed inhabitable until further notice. A large tree had fallen through the building's roof, collapsing nearly everything under its wake. Upon closer inspection, Nathan had been able to identify it as once being a church.

Beyond this, Chelsea's subunit had also discovered the island's only mountain, and the mine existing within in. The exploration of this area had been very brief; unsure of the risk of danger involved, the three had only visited the first floor of the mine, and had ventured less than halfway up the mountain. And to be completely honest, Chelsea wasn't sure Chen and Nathan could have tolerated much more than that; huffing and puffing with exertion, they had been the ones to request for the search to cease. Upon bringing word of their discovery to the camp, Chelsea had noticed the pale man, Regis, listening intensely as the subject of the mine came up. For the time being, Taro had decided it would be safest not to go venturing up the mountain until further examination of the risks involved was taken.

The building crew, made up of Gannon, Mark, Vaughn, and the occasional volunteer, had busied themselves with renovating and rebuilding. In the hours when there was little for her to do, having neither the brawn to help build nor the knowledge of land navigation, Chelsea found herself watching the building crew work. They didn't seem to mind her much, as she provided them with food, water, and decent conversation. Mark, in the least, seemed to enjoy her company.

On the fifth day, Chelsea had found herself idly talking about how she wished she could be of more use on the island. It seemed as though everyone had a job except for her. With the searching complete, for the most part, the only duties Chelsea had were to gather food, water, and other supplies when they were needed. And this wasn't even specific to her; _everyone_ pitched in like this, if they were needed.

Squinting at her in the sunlight and wiping the sweat from his brow, Mark had said something that had took her by surprise.

"Don't worry. From what I hear, Taro will have a job for you soon enough."

She had frowned at him, as she always did when confused. "What do you mean?"

Shaking his head, Mark had laughed. "Don't tell me you don't know! Ever since you discovered that farm, Taro's been working out a plan to get it up and running. I heard him talking about it with Felicia."

"But...how does that concern me? You don't honestly think he wants me to farm, do you?"

"Who else would do it?" Mark had said, sitting down beside her. "You found it, after all. And you're probably the most qualified person to do it, too - didn't you say that you used to help your grandparents farm when you were younger? I bet you still remember the basics."

Despite her doubts, his words had appeared in her thoughts again and again since he had brought it up. Two days later, as she ambled through western town towards the beach, Chelsea was thinking about it more than ever. Could she take on the farm? No doubt, she would have the required means to do so; tools, land, a source of fresh water, enough seeds to get her going. Surely, if she could produce enough crops, she could harvest them of their seeds and use those to plant a new batch...?

Shaking her head, Chelsea sighed. She was over-thinking this; she wasn't even positive that Taro wanted her to farm. The last time she had even been in a farming environment was when she was a child. And while she may be able to recall the basics and go from there, how could she run a farm all by herself? Even her grandparents had run their farm together. Surely, she would need _some_ help, at least until things really got running...

Chelsea was jarred from her thoughts by the sudden increase in noise; without realizing it, she had reached the beach and was standing amongst several of the castaways. Different conversations flowed from person to person, interrupting each other and causing a great deal of confused ruckus. Bits and pieces reached Chelsea's ears intermittently, and she resisted the urge to clamp her hands over her ears.

"-need signal fires lit, maybe somebody would see the smoke and-"

"-then we'd need to have someone on watch at all times, to make sure the fire never went out. And we would need enough wood-"

"-both wrong. What happens if it _rains_, huh? We'd be better off using rocks to write out SOS-"

"-idiot! That only works in the movies!"-

"Hey! Everyone, shut yer' gol'dang mouths and let me talk!"

Repressing an eye roll, Chelsea wasn't surprised to see Taro standing amongst the crowd looking indignant and disgruntled. With the crooked walking stick he had managed to acquire in the days since the crash, he pounded the sand as though it were a gavel. Reluctantly, the grumbling crowd settled down somewhat to hear what he had to say. Chelsea continued to be amazed by the authority Taro held over these people, and how unwaveringly they seemed to listen to him.

"As I'm sure you all know, the topic of rescue has come up lately. While we've managed to survive this long with the resources we have here, there's no doubt that everybody's fixin' to get back home."

A long, homesick murmur dispersed through the gathering. While some were lucky enough to have landed on the island with their families, others were alone. A strange feeling of ambivalence prickled Chelsea's insides uncomfortably.

"Keeping the survival attitude alive is more important now than ever. Without that, we might as well just give up any hope of ever gettin' home. So, the only way we're ever gonna get rescued is if we really _want_ it. Somebody out there wants you to come home, somebody out there needs you and is lookin' for ya. There's always gotta be a way back home."

Shuffling uncomfortably, Chelsea's gaze dropped to the sand below her. Curling her toes into the sand, she remembered that she had left her shoes back at her sleeping spot.

Clearing his throat, Taro continued. "Anyways. Onto business. From what I overheard, it seems like there's been a general agreement on where we should go from here."

Chelsea bit her tongue at this obviously incorrect statement, not wanting to stir up any arguments again.

"Signal fires and rock formations are our best bet as of right now. We will need volunteers to help gather a woodpile, and to keep it supplied at all times. The fires should always be ready to be lit at a moment's notice, and shouldn't be allowed to completely extinguish. Those who aren't assisting with the fires can begin gathering large enough rocks to assemble an SOS symbol that could be noticed from the sky-"

"Pardon me, Mr. Taro, sir...I apologize for interrupting, but I believe I harbor an idea that may prove to be quite beneficial in aiding the efforts of our rescue."

Taro's beady eyes locked onto Will's open face in silent speculation, but he didn't object. "Go on."

"Well, perhaps, sir...Perhaps, it would be advantageous for a number of us to journey up to the peak of the mountain, in order to better gauge the relative location of the island. Perhaps, with the increased elevation, we would have a superior view of any possible landmarks nearby. By any means, the higher altitude could also suit us quite well in relation to the signal fires. At such an acclivity, we may have a better chance of a fire being noticed by aircraft."

For a few moments after Will ceased speaking, Taro was silent as a look of reluctance enlightenment passed through his features. He cleared his throat awkwardly and straightened up before replying.

"Quite an impressive idea, boy. I can't say I didn't think of it myself, however. Nonetheless, I agree it would be worthwhile to carry out this journey. Choose a few people to go with you, and be on your way."

"Right now, sir?"

"Daylight's a'wastin! We only got so many hours of sunlight. The sooner we get information about prospects of rescue, the better. Before you go, though, take this here knife, boy...Who knows what could be out there, especially on an island like this'un."

Chelsea's eyes widened slightly as she looked sharped at Taro, expecting amusement to be present in his eyes. There was nothing but solemnity to be detected in his countenance.

The group split apart as everyone set off for their respective duties, whether that be the continued building of the shelters, or the new rescue efforts. Moving against the crowd's general direction, Chelsea nearly fell over as she bumped into Julia.

"Sorry, Julia! Didn't see you there."

"Don't worry about it, Chelsea. Actually, I'm glad I found you...I need your information for the manifest. Well, I guess it's more of a census-"

"A manifest? Like, a passenger list? What for?"

Julia shrugged, looking unconcerned. Chelsea noticed she was holding a battered, slightly water-logged pad of paper, and a pen. "I'm not exactly sure...It was Taro's idea. He thought it would be good to know a little bit more about everyone." Suddenly her countenance changed, to one of sheepishness. "Plus, I didn't exactly have any other job to do on the island...So I figured I would just do this."

"What did you want to know...?" Chelsea asked, hoping this wasn't an extensive questionnaire. There were certain things she felt entitled to, such as her privacy. Anyone else would feel the same way, she was sure.

"Nothing too personal. Just your full name, age, previous place of residence, and destination."

"Oh, um...Okay. Full name...Chelsea Cavanagh. Age, twenty-two."

"Previous place of residence?"

"Flowerbud City."

"And destination?"

Chelsea hesitated, knowing she didn't have a complete answer to this question. Julia would probably scoff and roll her eyes, then tell her to quit kidding around. But she had no other answer to provide.

"...Anywhere, I guess."

Julia only smiled, her eyes on the paper as she scribbled in the answer. "That would be nice, I bet. To journey out without a specific destination in mind. Momma, Vaughn and I, we were headed for Forget-Me-Not Valley, in hopes of having better business there. See, we run an animal business, and out in the city, there weren't many customers, obviously. I wasn't a huge fan of city-life, anyway. "

Chelsea found herself smiling as an unexpected warmth filled her chest. Perhaps she had gotten the wrong first impression of Julia. The girl she was speaking to now seemed genuine and kind, a good person who liked to make others feel comfortable.

"Are you and Vaughn together then?"

Julia's eyes bugged out slightly in shock, before she burst out laughing. A few moments passed before she could contain herself, and even then the occasional giggle spilled out. "Heavens, no! He's nearly a brother to me, but certainly no more than that. He's been working for Momma for a long time."

"Oh, I'm sorry...It's just, you look similar in age, and seem to be close..."

She giggled again, a light-hearted, girlish sound that Chelsea never seemed to be able to master, herself. "It's alright. It's actually not the first time we've been mistaken as such. Speaking of, there he is over there. I've yet to write down his information on the manifest, but I guess I could do that without asking him. Nonetheless, I've gotta ask him about one of the buildings in western town anyways. Talk to you later, Chelsea!"

As she bounded away, Chelsea watched her go with a laugh. Julia was certainly chatty, but despite that, she seemed like someone Chelsea could eventually befriend.

"Chelsea! Ah, my dearest friend, I have been looking for you!"

Chelsea had taken only a few steps before she was met with another friendly face. Will's crystalline eyes twinkled back at her from her stood, a hand halfway extended towards her.

"Hey, Will. Something you need?"

"I'm here to inquire as to whether or not you'd be interested in accompanying me and a few others on my venture-"

"Move it, move it, old man comin' through! Hold on just a second, Willy boy, I've got another job for 'er!"

Both heads swiveled towards the direction of Taro's raucous voice, watching as he shuffled stiffly around individuals nearby. Denny, being one of them, tossed Chelsea a look that seemed to say, _I pity you._ Chelsea narrowed her eyes at him in response, watching as he tossed back his head and laughed.

"I'm afraid I can't let you take this one of your little journey. She's needed elsewhere at the moment."

"What? Where am I needed elsewhere?" Chelsea cried, indignant and disappointed. She had became rather bored in the last few days, cooped up around camp or merely watching Mark and the other builders. The words were barely out of Will's mouth before she had been poised to reply with a resounding yes.

"I need to talk to you, missy. That's a good enough reason, ain't it?"

"Not exactly-"

She was cut off as Taro began pulling her away with what she considered a surprising amount of strength, before she remembered that he had once been a farmer himself. As Taro dragged her away, off into western town, Chelsea shrugged her shoulders and gave Will an apologetic look.

"Sorry, Will," she managed to call out, trying to dismiss the look of mild disappointment on his face. "Maybe next time?"

"No worries, my lady," he called back, scratching the back of his neck. "Next time, definitely!"

A bad mood fell over Chelsea like a black cloud, settling quickly and silently. Struggling to keep up with Taro's strenuous pace, she nearly turned back and accompanied Will and his group anyway.

"Where are we going? And what could be so important to talk about that you had to prevent me from going with him up the mountain? I was looking forward to the change of pace, after being stuck doing next to nothing-"

"I'll be, I never pegged you as a complainer, missy. If you'd rather not learn some sure-to-be valuable advice from a farming expert, then I'll sure as heck let you go on and skedaddle after that William boy."

"...What? Where is this going? What are you getting at-"

Taro sighed, his scraggly eyebrows furrowing in exasperation. "I'd have figured you'd figured it out yourself by now. We're gettin' this farm running, all right...And you're going to be the one to do it. No one else's as qualified, far as I know. Other than me, o'course. But I'm far too old to be doing the manual work involved here, which is why I'm gonna be tellin' you all I know about farming. Capiche?"

Chelsea, unable to elicit a proper response, remained silent as Taro dragged her across the farm's property line.

Whether she liked it or not, it seemed as though she was about to become the island's new farmer.


End file.
